


Things you say that aren't important

by cooliopio



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Recreational Drug Use, Support Systems, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, bad trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cooliopio/pseuds/cooliopio
Summary: Lardo’s in a tough spot.And she’s on the edge of a mental breakdown.And she just wants to stop feeling; just for a little bit.Lardo’s in a tough spot, and that’s how she finds herself at some random frat house on a thursday night.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz & Larissa "Lardo" Duan & Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Things you say that aren't important

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for just HOW MUCH drug mention there is
> 
> Trigger Warnings:  
> BAD DRUG USE like not just weed!  
> Bad trips :(
> 
> Songs I listened to whilst writing:  
> "Drugs" by Upsahl (Main Inspo!)  
> "The Overpass" P!atd  
> "Dirty Night Clowns" Chris Garneau

Lardo’s in a tough spot.

Her art friends are always condescending-- with their not-so gentle criticism with her work.

The hockey boys are there for her, she knows, but she doesn’t want to bother them with her bullshit-- she’s supposed to be strong for them.

Her parents are calling her more often, criticizing her choice to be an art major, prodding her when she’s going to change.

And she’s on the edge of a mental breakdown.

And she just wants to stop feeling; just for a little bit.

Lardo’s in a tough spot, and that’s how she finds herself at some random frat house on a thursday night.

She looks up at the two story, well, mansion, she supposes. A popular frat with enough rooms to house a majority of its members, technically owned by the school. White pillars hold up an overhanging roof-- plantation style architecture, she guesses.

With a resigned breath, she walks inside.

None of the boys know she’s here; they wouldn’t let her come near it if they did.

A deep base thumps through the house, the air thick with heat and bodies too close. She shoulders her way through the crowd, searching.

Her eyes scan the corners and hallways, looking for--

“Hey, what’s a girl like you doing here?” She hears a voice say. She twists around to meet the voice, a towering basketball player, she assumes, crowding her personal space.

“I just came here to the party for the drugs.” she says, voice hollow.

“Oh, aight. What are you looking for?” the man says, his brow questioning, grin crooked.

Lardo thinks for a moment, the void in her chest eating her up, “anything,” she answers with a quick breath.

The basketball player grabs her hand, and she doesn’t resist. He leads her to another man, a teammate, she guesses.

“She’s looking for a hookup,” the man says to his teammate.

The teammate takes a look at Lardo, “how strong?”

“I don’t care. Get me fucked up,” Lardo borderline pleads. She doesn’t care anymore. She just wants to feel good, feel numb, stop feeling so fucking sad.

“You got thirtyfive?” he asks, and Lardo nods while fishing money out of her pocket.

“‘You look like you need it, so i’m giving you a discount. Here,” the teammate hands her two bags and a sheet. “Have fun, man. Maybe not all at once though.”

Lardo nods, looking at the drugs. She pockets them in her purple zipper hoodie, and heads for the door without a thanks to the dealer.

The walk back to the Haus is filled with anticipation. She’s jittering out of her body nearly, excited to feel everything and nothing all at once.

She casually pads up the stairs upon her arrival, returning a quick, nonchalant “hey” to Ransom and Holster on the couch.

She closes her door behind her gently, and locks it. With a deep breath, she sets the drugs on her desk, debating with herself.

Sighing, she fishes rolling papers from the top drawer of her desk, and decides on rolling a laced joint because she just doesn’t care. She rolls her joint like normal, but sprinkles some of the coke she got from the dealer in with it before licking it shut.

Inserting the filter, she sighs, and reaches for her lighter. She stands up and pads over to her bed before lighting it, wanting to feel like she’s floating in nothing in her comfortable bed.

Lardo takes a deep inhale, the smoke tasting different from normal with the addition of the coke, and holds it in for a while.

The feeling, she thinks, is a little indescribable. Her body lights up and calms down all at once, a sense of relief from her stress engulfing her.

She takes a couple more hits before taking a small break in her session to just… exist.

Her mind is full of nothing and everything all at once. She’s a stoner, of course, she knows what a high feels like, but she’s never done cocaine and she feels euphoric

Lardo is overcome with emotion; she feels like sobbing into next week. She’s just so happy right now.

And then.

And then she doesn’t.

Her panic is back as soon as it left, and it feels like her heart is beating out of her chest. She sits up in her bed and swings her legs over the sides, giving herself a moment to regain her bearings. She’s unstable, she knows. Off balance. Carefully, she stands up and heads back over to her desk.

The dealer said not all at once but, fuck, Lardo doesn’t want to feel like this anymore, she wants to feel like how she did initially-- happy and euphoric. She fumbles with the sheet on her desk, taking one strip carefully, and places it haphazardly on her tongue. She laughs at herself for a second, at how ridiculous this is. She’s doing acid now, for fucks sake, she’s never wanted to do acid before-- it scared the shit out of her, all the rumors about bad trips, but she’s at her wits end and she wants to stop feeling.

The acid hits her fairly quickly. Everything starts twisting and turning and it’s beautiful, she just has to laugh. She lets her legs give out underneath of her, falling to the floor less than gracefully with a thud.

The room around her is full of color-- she’s hallucinating, she knows-- and she cant stop laughing. Everything is so beautiful. She’s so happy. She’s so… so free.

She’s so euphoric she cant help but sob-- deep cries ripping from her throat, quick and unforgiving. She doesn’t care about her surroundings, only how she feels.

She’s forgotten about where she’s at.

Until there’s a knock at the door.

“Lardo? You alright?” someone asks through the door-- Ransom, she recognizes.

“Yeah!” Lardo laugh-cries, “I’m just s-so happy, Ransom.”

“O-oh. That’s… That’s good!” Ransom hesitates, “Can… can i come in?”

Lardo almost answers before she remembers the scene on her desk. “No!” she clips, voice harsh and afraid. “No, you can’t!”

“Please?” Ransom begs.

“No, Ransom! Just let me be h-happy!” Lardo begins sobbing the more she talks, going deeper into her trip.

“Well, we’re worried about you, Lards. Me and Holster.”

“I don’t care!” Another sob, “I’m fine!”

“You don’t sound very fine.”

“You can’t come in!” She begs.

Ransom tries the door handle regardless, finding it locked. “Why is your door locked?”

Lardo can’t come up with a good excuse in the state she’s in. She doesn’t answer.

“Lardo? Lards? I’m getting worried.” His voice is full of panic. “Holster!” he calls down the stairs, “I’m going to need a little help!”

“No!” Lardo screams. They can’t find her like this. “No! No, no, no!” she whispers to herself, andss pulling at her longing hair-- she hasn’t had the motivation to cut it in a few months.

There’s a familiar pounding up the stairs-- Holster.

“Hey, Lardo,” booms Holster in his familiar baritone, “can we come in?”

She doesn’t answer. She just keeps crying, and her heart keeps pounding, but she is still so happy-- but she is also so panicked. What are they going to think of her?

She can hear them calling out to her, but she ignores them. She just keeps sobbing, drowning out their noise.

They start ramming themselves against the door, attempting to break it in. Lardo resigns herself to her fate, and just lets herself feel. She feels her high-- highs, she feels the love from Random and Holster, their worry, and she feels her fear. The fear that has been engulfing her for days, weeks, months; overtaking her life. She feels the pit in her chest eating at her heart and tugging at her lungs, the knots her intestines have tied, the tension in her shoulders.

The boys finally get the door open as Lardo begins crying again, harder than before-- who knew that was possible, as she lays spread on the hardwood, paint-stained floor in her room.

“Lard-- woah,” Ransom starts, his eyes catching at the state of the desk. “Is… is this,” he continues, walking over to the desk, the floor creaking beneath his feet, “Is this cocaine?” Ransom asks, peering over it but refusing to touch it.

“Looks like it,” Holster confirms, kneeling next to Lardo, taking her into his arms. “Woah, Lards, your pupils are massive right now.”

“There’s LSD over here too,” Ransom adds.

“Shit Lardo, did you mix them?” Holster asks, terrified.

Lardo can’t help but laugh. This isn’t funny. But she laughs; she’s such a fuck up. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“With weed?”

“With weed” she confirms.

Holster stares at her, eyes wide behind his glasses, full of fear, glassy. “Lardo that’s… that’s so fucking dangerous.”

“I know,” she mutters, tearing her eyes away from Holster’s, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes to stop her never-ending tears, letting the rest of herself go pliant against Holster.

“Lardo, Why?!” Ransom pleads, taking purchase across from Holster, next to Lardo.

“I Just…” She starts before taking a frustrated breath, “I just wanted to stop feeling like shit.”

“Oh, Lardo,” someone says, lowly. She’s not sure who.

“I’ve been so fucking sad and I didn’t know what to d-do,” Lardo sobs, turning into Holsters chest. “Don’t tell anyone else about this.”

“I’m… not so sure that’s a good idea, Lards. You’re hurting and you need help.”

“Please,” she pleads, “this is the first time i’ve done this stupid shit, there’s no need to blow it up.”

“Well, we heard you sobbing and screaming, Lards,” Ransom reasons.

“I swear I won’t do this again, I’ll talk to you about my bullshit, I don’t care, but please don’t make me go to therapy.”

Ransom and Holster share a look before Holster speaks up, “But, Lardo, we care. Do you know how fucking scary it is to find you high off three different drugs on a thursday night, screaming and crying?”

Lardo mutters something incomprehensible.

Ransom sighs. “Fine, we won’t make you go to therapy, for now, and we can table the rest of this conversation when you’re not still tripping.” Ransom reaches for her before hesitating, “Just… can I hug you?”

Lardo twists to throw a loose arm around Ransom, and he takes her in tightly, stealing her off Holster’s lap.

“We love you, Lards. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Ransom whispers against her hair.

“I don’t ever want to see you like this again,” Holster adds softly, rubbing gentle circles on her upper back.

“‘m sorry, guys,” Lardo sniffs. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Lards, We’re sorry. We didn’t recognize how much you were hurting,” Holster chokes.

“I’m gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, alright?” Ransom assures.

Lardo sniffs for a moment, and buries her face deeper into Ransom’s neck, “alright.”

Ransom picks Lardo up and sets her gently on her bed. “Do you want me to call Shitty and tell him to come down?”

Lardo freezes. Shitty. Oh god, Shitty. She wants to see him more than anything, but he’d be so disappointed. “Yeah,” she tells him, “but don’t… don’t tell him what happened. Not yet.”

Ransom hums, tucking her in. “Alright I won’t. But you will?”

“Eventually.”

“Good enough.”

Holster’s voice breaks in from across the room, “I’ll deal with getting rid of the drugs, alright? And even the weed, it’s not from your dealer and I don’t trust it.”

Lardo hums in agreement, exhaustion overtaking her bones, sleep settling in her eyes.

“We love you, Lards.” Ransom says gently. “Do you want one of us to stay?”

Lardo shakes her head. She just wants to sleep, alone.”

“Alright,” Holster confirms, “Sleep well, we’ll check up on you through the night, alright?”

Lardo hums again before she falls completely asleep, reassured that she has people who love and care for her, truly, despite what she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes,,, we write fics to COPE
> 
> I've never done drugs so like.... dont come for me if i depicted them wrong google can only do us so much good *pensive emoji**fist bump emoji**clown emoji*
> 
> lmk any spelling/grammar errors; wacky keyboard, didn't proofread, yada yada. 
> 
> Hope u enjoyed as much as u can enjoy an angst fic *vibe check emoji*


End file.
